Yay Bikes! Journeys recount howYay Bikes! is transforming lives and communities, from the perspective of those we’ve impacted. In this installment, we hear from Nik Olah about how the Yay Bikes! community has rallied around him during his time of need.

The man, the myth, the legend: Nik Olah. Photo: Ray George

Biking, for me, is fundamentally a social experience. I ride with people to soak up life with them. It’s the time we’ve spent just being together, talking or silently taking in the scenery, that has forged some of the friendships I’ve relied on most since my cancer diagnosis. 

— Nik Olah

COMING UNDONE: ‘Humbling’ doesn’t even come close to capturing the outpouring of love I’ve received from this community over the past 12 months.”

Shortly after the Year of Yay! ride in July 2017, Nik Olah walked from his apartment in Downtown Columbus to the emergency room at Grant Hospital. Though he had trouble convincing the doctors there of it, he knew something wasn't right. He knew this because after the Year of Yay! ride someone had offered to drive him home from Whole Foods Market at Easton and, too tired to ride the 10 extra miles, he accepted. This was weird. He had just returned from an epic bicycle camping trip through Glacier National Park, so 10 miles? Pshaw! He finally convinced the doctors to run some tests, and one week later he got the devastating diagnosis: stage IV pancreatic cancer. Nik would be lucky to live another few months.

Nik, shortly before his cancer diagnosis.

His world fell apart at that point, as anyone's would. Suddenly the guy known to everyone in the Yay Bikes! community as "the ultimate sweep"—the one who'd stay behind to ride with anyone who was struggling—found himself in need of the support he'd offered to so many for so long. And indeed, in the months following his diagnosis, it was often his bicycle community that buoyed both his spirits and his health. “People have helped me clean and cook, sat with me as I cried, traveled and ridden with me, joined me at doctor’s visits…I couldn’t ask for better friends,” said Nik, tears in his eyes.

MAKING COLUMBUS HOME: "I came to Columbus for the opportunity to earn more money, but my heart was elsewhere for a long time. I stopped driving back to Toledo every weekend when I finally began going on Yay Bikes! rides."

In 2008, Nik moved to the Columbus area from Toledo, where he’d lived his entire life. With his new, better-paying job, he replaced the bicycle he’d had stolen 10 years before and began riding the paths and parks of Westerville. He attempted a ride with the Westerville Bike Club but…it did not go well; Nik couldn’t keep up with the group. Eventually he decided to move to downtown Columbus, where he met folks who enjoyed the more leisurely, sociable style of riding that suited him. As best as we can figure, Nik found his way to a Year of Yay! ride sometime in 2014. He still didn’t have many friends in Columbus, so he returned to Toledo most weekends. But as he began attending more Yay Bikes! events, and Ray George pulled him into other rides, he started to form a community here. Columbus finally began to feel like home. Along with board games, curling and rum connoisseur-ing, bicycling became his life—he sold his car when he determined it’d be cheaper and easier to live without it, and he has never turned back.

Nik being Nik on a holiday Year of Yay! ride!

BEING YAY BIKES!: "You can do it. There's only Nik (i.e., five) miles left to go*..."

Nik turned out to be the perfect embodiment of Yay Bikes! According to our theory of change, “We facilitate a caring community of cyclists because we believe that changing transportation behaviors is difficult when attempted in isolation.” And Nik’s ability to create meaningful relationships in a very short time is unparalleled. He hangs back with new riders, sharing his knowledge with them, distracting them with conversation, nudging them to just. keep. pedaling. And, with him, they find it within themselves to keep at it, long enough to gain the confidence of someone who’s done something previously unimaginable. They are able to move from fear into a bicycling lifestyle because Nik took the time to support them at a critical juncture on their journey.

(*Nik is known by friends to answer "five" whenever they ask how many miles are left to ride. Because anyone can ride just another five miles!)

Nik, Joel and Kathleen being cheered on during the 2018 Pan-Ohio Hope Ride. Photo: Darrell McGrath

ROLLING ONWARD: "Keep pedaling, find your tribe and locate your joy.”

Recently Nik has been sporting an electric bike, too weak to continue riding the steed he bought 10 years ago upon moving to Columbus. He was able to complete the American Cancer Society’s 2018 Pan Ohio Hope Ride, but realistically there won’t be another; he has accepted comfort care and expects to have passed by the end of the year. But, in typical Nik fashion, he wants his story to be told, and exploited for Good any way possible: "Anything I can do to turn this into a positive, I will gladly do," he says. He wants people know the magic of riding a bike. He wants them to know how profoundly their mental and physical health can be impacted by riding a bike. Most of all, he wants people to know that riding bikes is a way to know and be known, to develop “bike friends” that become “real friends” who will be there for you when things get rough.

Yay Bikes! is forever grateful to Nik for his loving, joyful, generous presence. We will always treasure the many gifts he has bestowed on our community.

Loving tributes to our friend:

Craig Clark

“I have always enjoyed not just riding with, but spending time with the bike riding, kilt wearing, rum aficionado Nik Olah. Nik is a great story teller of events and adventures he has been a part of. I always enjoy hearing stories of GenCon, The Safehouse, and travel. I am glad that we got to share numerous experiences over the last couple of years: riding in Chicago, West Virginia, and Montana as well as rides around Columbus. One of the things that I really admire in Nik is that he is very thoughtful of others. Always considering and thinking about other people, whether it be hanging back on a ride so that no one rides alone or inviting friends to join him on a crazy adventure.”

KATHLEEN KOECHLIN

“Nik is definitely the ultimate sweep! He is so patient and so kind when it comes to Yay Bikes! rides! He will stay with the last person, whether they decide to finish or to stop (in which case he will wait with them until their ride comes). He is willing to give up his ride to ensure that everyone is taken care of and has a good experience. I am not that selfless, so he is someone I really look up to. Nik is so optomistic! His positive attitude around all that life has thrown his way just amazes me!”

Joel Spokas

“Soon after moving back to Central Ohio, I discovered Yay Bikes and quickly learned that cyclists didn’t always wear spandex. Some wore jeans, dresses or, like Nik, kilts. Nik was usually the Sweep and made sure everyone made it back safely. He taught me that being a Sweep isn’t just about knowing the route or being a good wrench. You also need to make the most novice cyclist comfortable, and he excels at this. He always has a story to share, be it an insight on the law or rum or music or games or strategy—whatever it is that connects. His actions remind me that leading isn’t about being up front. That by meeting people where they are, seeing the humanity in each of us, without judgement and without bias, we ride together.”

Jeff Gove

“Nik Olah is an inspiration to me to appreciate every day and every one I come into contact with, be present with them and value them as unique individuals who make the world better because of them being in it.”

Kathleen O'Dowd

Nik is The Ultimate Sweep! He has never dropped me—ever! On my very first Century ride he chatted away, about everything and nothing, to carry me the last 15 miles, to mile 100! I don’t think I would have made it (with a smile) without him!

DARRELL MCGRATH

“When I moved to Columbus, I only knew one person. I don’t make friends easily, so that’s how it stayed for quite a while. But after years of exploring the area alone, I finally decided to join a bicycling group (Yay Bikes!) with hopes of meeting other people. My first time out was a little rocky. So I skipped their next ride. Then I decided to give it another try. There was this one guy in the back who seemed friendly. We chatted a bit. That evening I told my partner, “I did talk to this one guy. I guess I’ll go again next month.” And that guy was there again, in the back, keeping an eye out for others, and generously taking time to explain who we were and what we were doing to the drivers and pedestrians we rode by. I hung back with him because it felt like a safe place to be. Over the next few months, I would show up, look around, and think, “Okay...that guy is here. I guess I’ll stick around. Maybe I’ll try to meet other people today...but at least I can talk to him. It will be a good ride.” After about a year, I actually made some friends. Like I said, I don’t make friends easily. But now I feel like I have many. I feel like Columbus is my home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. This is exactly where I want to be, and these are the people I want to spend time with. But I wouldn’t have tried over and over and over again to get beyond my natural reluctance to open up to strangers if I hadn’t felt safe and comfortable because of that guy near the back of the pack. Well, right now that guy needs me and the rest of his friends to hang back. I don’t know if he would have asked for it, but he never needed to—we all consider it an honor. Cancer sucks more than any hill, than any headwind, than any thunderstorm. But we can look after one another. We can generously offer our time. We can provide a safe place. We all have to get up that hill under our own power, but we never have to do it alone.”

Rahel Babb

“Since the moment I first met Nik he's always been there helping out, encouraging me, smiling and generally just being a good friend. Over the course of several years and countless miles ridden together, my family and I have gotten to know him better and our bond of friendship has grown deeper as a result. Nik always finds a way to help out, be it volunteering to be a sweep on a ride, house/dog sitting for us when we are on vacation or just being here when I need some company. It means the world to me to count him among my friends. He is truly one of a kind!”

Jennifer Reichert

I have known Nik my entire adult life, which he has profoundly influenced for the better. I met him in the early 1990s, when we hung around the University of Toledo's radio station, WXUT, in the wee hours of the morning gleefully playing found noises and audio samples. He taught me about this new thing called the Internet and how to use it. He was also the first vegan I ever met, and he patiently explained what that meant. Through the years, Nik's creative, gently iconoclastic, playful, patient spirit helped me see and engage the world with joy and compassion. We discovered a shared love of hockey, and this photo was taken when my Capitals were visiting Columbus in 2011. It has been an honor to be able to call Nik a friend.

Tonni poses with the sign she got installed, with help from Yay Bikes!, on St Clair Ave.

Tonni Oberly was introduced to Yay Bikes! last summer when her employer offered Ride Buddy rides to teach employees how to commute by bicycle. A community advocate with Milo Grogan's new Cultivate Community Development Corporation, Tonni was already commuting to work by bike, and was so excited to share the love of riding with her colleagues that she came on three rides with us during the summer of 2017!

Tonni was experiencing hostility on a segment of her daily commute—a narrow, one-lane bridge with a hill on St Claire Avenue that doesn't readily allow cars to pass when she's taking the full lane for safety (as is her right). So in June 2018 she emailed Meredith asking how to get a Bikes May Use Full Lane sign installed on that bridge. And—as quick as zip-zoom-zip—Meredith connected Tonni with the appropriate person within the City of Columbus, who did an assessment and had a sign installed...within the month.

Tonni is feeling much more relaxed now during that segment of her commute, confident that both motorists and bicyclists are being educated by the presence of her sign. Even more, she's in awe of the ease with which she was able to achieve this simple, yet meaningful, win. Without the assist from Yay Bikes!, she imagines it would have taken much longer to get a sign installed, with much more effort on her part.

Indeed, bicycle advocacy can be a long slog, with roads taking years to design and designs taking years to implement. But Tonni, empowered by her achievement, reminds us that some smaller changes are within anyone's reach. And with Yay Bikes! out there in the world, chances are even better that we who ride will get it done—together!

As you might imagine, in my line of work there are many rides to be led, and many routes to be created. Because I'm often planning routes for rides in places I don’t know well, I will typically draft them first in Google Maps, then drive them upon arrival to town. As I'm driving, the lines on my map become really real, and I sometimes panic: "Holy crap!", I say to myself, "We're all gonna die if I take us on this street!" Through my windshield, roads can look terrifying and I become one big NOPE. Yes, even me, even after all the riding I've done and the riding I've taught others to do. I still get scared. But I have a policy that I won't take people on streets I haven't been willing to ride on my own—during rush hour, if possible—so I strap on my helmet and set off to ride the route as planned.

I surely would NEVER have seen this from my car.

I am happy to report that in almost in every single instance, when I actually ride the streets I'd thought would lead to certain death, it becomes “Oh! This is much different than I thought it’d be!” Motorists are respectful, passing slowly and with care, and I am able to notice all the pleasant things I never could while driving. Murals. Birdsong. Microclimates. Aromas (bakeries, laundry, flowers...). Every time I ride, I am reminded why I ride—because, quite simply, it's lovely to ride. But it's not just me, someone generally at ease riding on the road, who experiences this. On their evaluations, the vast majority of our ride participants suggest that riding is a joyful experience that is much, much different than they had imagined:

“I was pleasantly surprised at how much motorists were cooperating with us. Also, we rode streets that I would have never ridden on because they look too ‘busy’.”

“I relearned the joy of riding a bike with the wind in my face.”

“It’s a lot less scary than I thought it would be.”

— Anonymous ride participants

A Year of Yay! ride with kiddos on Morse Rd. Photo: Ray George

I'm grateful for my route planning ritual, and the fear it sometimes invokes in me. It's a good reminder that what seems so from the seat of a car can be quite different from how it actually is from the seat of a bike. And it's a good reminder of why it can be so tricky to get people to understand the joy that awaits them on the other side of their car windshield. Especially when we haven't ridden for a while, it's tempting to view riding a bicycle in traffic as extraordinarily dangerous; we can't even fathom doing it. Then layer on the fact that people tend to overestimate how long it takes to ride a bike somewhere, and fears of physical inadequacy, and I can see why people psych themselves out. That's why we at Yay Bikes! insist that most of our education happens on-road. Sometimes all it takes is taking a chance on getting out there, with some support if possible, and discovering for yourself the unexpected experience of riding a bike—yes, even in traffic.

Yay Bikes! Journeys recount howYay Bikes! is transforming lives and communities, from the perspective of those we’ve impacted. In this installment, we hear from Paul Westrick, of zer0z wallets, about how his commitment to bikeable communities leads him to support Yay Bikes!.

Paul Westrick of zerOz in the wallet production area of his Gay Street retail shop, where artists are constantly churning out his unique, hand-crafted wallets.

The only way we’re going to make this [bicycling] something people can use to get around is through advocacy. I’ll do what I can, but I can’t do it all alone. That’s where Yay Bikes! comes in.”

— Paul Westrick

A GUIDING FORCE: "Everything connects to biking for me."

Paul Westrick, designer and business guru behind the patented zer0z wallet, has become well known among Downtown enthusiasts during the seven-or-so years his shop has graced the Gay Street corridor. His retail shop was/is a trailblazing effort for sure, but besides that, his friendly, exuberant personality is a powerful draw. Less well known, perhaps, is the extent to which Paul is a deeply committed cyclist who organizes his life around his ability to ride. He doesn't own a car ("I'm just NOT getting in that thing anymore", he said, regarding his decision to give it up) and commutes by bike daily from Clintonville to his shops in Downtown and Dublin, walking if it's too icy to ride.

PEDALING FORWARD, NOT BACK: "With all the crazy things happening in our world right now, simple practices like riding a bicycle are the future."

Paul's life—whether wallets, coffee, meditation or bikes—centers on common themes of simplicity, quality, pleasure and equity, and he is all in for active people and powerhouse organizations who are up to promoting these values. Over the years he has quietly invested in supporting their expression via the Columbus bike community by giving to Yay Bikes! (Ride of Silence is his fave), Pelotonia, Tour de Grandview and more. When asked what he would say to fellow small business owners who are skeptical of cyclists and bicycle infrastructure, he said, "Slowing down and getting people on bikes is this weirdly forward thing that we have a chance to connect to right now. I see the difference in the faces of my customers when they arrive by bike versus car, how happy they are. It's awesome! Happy people are always good for business."

Buy a wallet with the Yay Bikes! logo—leather color and style of your choice—and Paul will donate $10 to Yay Bikes!

DOING BUSINESS BY BIKE: "What changed my mind about locating an 'outpost' shop in Dublin was visiting there and realizing it was more accessible by bike than I'd imagined."

Paul had been approached numerous times by leasing agents hoping he'd expand his retail operations within their shopping centers, but never felt like the suburbs matched his lifestyle. He just couldn't wrap his head around the idea of locating his business in such car-centric areas. But when he began researching the Bridge Park District in Dublin and realized how bikeable and walkable the development was, he changed his attitude. "It's got so many bike trails nearby that driving really is not required," he said. "And I don't—I bike there from Clintonville and it's great! Most of my design ideas come while I'm riding my bike, so I'm being very creative these days!" Paul credits Yay Bikes! with promoting the types of places he wants to be (and locate businesses! and shop! and ride!), and introducing so many people folks to the joys of city streets by bike. "I am hugely committed to this work, and I can't do it without Yay Bikes!. You are making such a difference. Thank you!"

Even his origin story involves bikes!

Yay Bikes! is grateful to Paul for his extraordinary passion for life, wallets and bicycling. We especially appreciate his extraordinary generosity to the cause of helping people safely transport themselves by bicycle. Helmets off to you, friend!

Yay Bikes! Journeys recount howYay Bikes! is transforming lives and communities, from the perspective of those we’ve impacted. In this installment, we hear from Sarah Riegel about how her involvement with Yay Bikes! over the past couple of years has slowly changed how she knows both her city and herself.

The Sarah! Photo credit: Keith Lugs Mayton

Hey! I can probably do this [ride to work] and not die doing this!

— Sarah Riegel

DIPPING A TOE IN: "Go figure—I like riding my bike now that I have a good bike to ride."

Like many people, Sarah rode her bike as a kid...until receiving her driver’s license. Like many people, she biked in college on an old beater bike...but living on a third-floor walkup didn't make it fun. Then, in 2012, a visiting friend had her tag along on a tour of bike shops and she got to thinking—maybe if she got a new bike she would enjoy riding more. And it turns out, she did! She started using her new bike for errands and her love of riding slowly grew from there. Then she did Bike the Cbus. Then she used Yay Valet! at a festival. And then, finally, she attended her first Year of Yay! ride, back when it launched from the Whole Foods Market at Easton.

Sarah, second from left, braves the cold to park bikes at an OSU game. Photo credit: Deo Martinez

PUTTING THE PUZZLE PIECES TOGETHER: "Each ride with Yay! has helped get me a better sense of how to successfully piece together my own rides, and feel confident riding stretches of road I never would have thought possible."

Sarah liked that the Year of Yay! rides were slow and in no way competitive—she didn't feel the need to be a speed demon to keep up with the group. Plus all the other riders were so friendly that it was easy to feel safe and welcome, even when faced with roads she couldn't imagine riding otherwise...like Morse! In fact, as she eased into it, she noticed that riding in the Easton area (near where her office is located) was very different than what she expected. From the seat of a car, streets looked WAY too busy to ride safely, but from the seat of a bike they weren't really so bad after all. As the group rode new routes each month, the pieces of her commute started coming together, and she started imaging that it might be possible to ride into work. With a How We Roll ride in spring of 2017 and a few more Year of Yay! rides under her belt, she was ready to roll!

Leading February 2018's Year of Yay! ride, with a Winter Sports theme. Photo credit: Ray George

MAKING IT HAPPEN: "For a couple of months now I've been riding to work once a week, on casual Fridays, and I feel really energized when I get there."

Sarah, not known for her effusiveness, nevertheless has plenty to recommend when it comes to her riding and volunteer experiences with Yay Bikes!. She says she's met a lot of great people, gotten to know lots of cool bikes and become more intimately connected with Columbus as a result of her time with us. And it's been such an accomplishment to navigate her work commute by bike! If you want to ride but feel nervous about it, Sarah invites you to come out and give it a try with Yay Bikes!, where you'll be made to feel safe exploring the city by bike. There are lots of ways to plug in, and lots of adventures to be had on the way to freeing yourself from a car. She's done it, she says, and so can you.

She's got a badge, she's official.

Yay Bikes! is grateful to Sarah for her solid commitment to showing up, doing the work and growing into both personal transformation and leadership. We especially appreciate her chill, her wit and her wicked smarts. Helmets off to you, friend!

A recent study out of England evaluated whether a cyclist's appearance made any difference in how they were treated by passing motorists. So during Bike to Work Week, I decided to replicate that experiment, USA-style, to see if wearing different clothes affected how drivers treated me. I have an easy, low-stress, 3.5-mile bike commute to work. It consists of mostly residential streets with a few stoplights across busy roads, a couple of heads-up places and a lovely protected bike lane. Every day I rode the same route, the same bike and in the same manner. The only thing that changed each day was my wardrobe—or, in one case, my costume.Here's how it went down:

Day 1: Hi Vis

I saw a yellow finch, three white dogs being walked and one brown poodle noodling around on the ground scratching his back. None were fazed by my neon fashion. I rolled up to another commuter while waiting to cross a busy street. He appeared to be going to work, reminded me of a professor. He was nicely dressed in an outdoorsy way, button down shirt tucked in with a belt, canvas hiking pants with Velcro straps holding the fabric of his pants away from the chain, backpack with 2 metal water bottles and a rack that was empty. He glanced over at me in all my day glow glory and rolled a half wheel in front of me. Then he quickly made a dicey cross in front a car that was moving way over the speed limit. Maybe I’m projecting here but it was as if he was embarrassed to be seen next to a hi-vis Rainbow Bright. Other than my interaction with the “professor” this commute was no different than most. Most fellow commuters tend to be very friendly. Drivers behaved and gave me plenty of room.

Sprite with blinking lights.

You have to admit the resemblance is uncanny!

Day 2: Casual – Cut-off jeans and t-shirt

There were only a few things worth mentioning about this day, and none had to do with how I was treated by motorists. The first thing was it was a gorgeous morning with orange poppies and purple irises waving hello with a clear blue sky. Secondly, cutoff jeans shorts are seriously uncomfortable on a bike. In the evening I got caught in a torrential rainstorm, complete with tornado sirens while riding through downtown Columbus for the Yay Bikes! event Ride the Elevator. We had to cut our ride short but it was a ride none of us will ever forget. It was like riding through a waterfall and down a river for about a mile. Jean shorts take on an enormous amount of water and tend to grow as few sizes when soaked. For the second day in a row, I was treated with respect and was given plenty of room when cars passed.

Nice excuse to dress like this at work!

Yep, that was fun!

Notice the high tech rain gear.

Day 3: Team Kit – so pro

I felt really conflicted this day. I’m no stranger to wearing a team kit. I’m on the Paradise Garage Racing Team and have been racing mountain bikes for over 16 years. What made this absurd was my glasses, shoes, helmet and kit cost 10x what I paid for my used bike. My carbon-soled shoes with cleats on the wet plastic pedals made for a tricky ride in the rain; my feet kept slipping off the pedals. My padded bibs, super soft jersey and rain resistant jacket kept me comfortable and dry. No one seemed to notice how ridiculous my outfit was in relation to my bike. My guess is most people don’t know the difference between a high-end bike and a beater. Again, everyone treated me with care when passing. Today was the first day no one waved at me. I felt slightly invisible, and since I was a bit self-conscious that was just fine by me. Was I off-putting in my so pro look or was it just the rain?

No time for smiles, I've got watts to make!

Pro power stance

Day 4: Dress Up

This is the day that people were the most friendly. Two guys said hi and I got a few nods from the bus stop. Oddly enough, the hard soles of my heels made for a comfortable ride. They had a similar feel to my hard racing shoes. The heel acted as a hook and my feet never slipped off of the pedals. Fun commuting tip for anyone that wears a dress or skirt: tuck a little bit in one of the leg bands of your shorts and no matter the amount of wind your dress or skirt won’t go flying up and over your head! Cars treated me with the same respect and care as they did all week.

Scabs on my knees gave me away.

Day 5: Crazy town — I’m a green bunny

Somehow this seemed like a great idea until the morning of my commute. The realization that I was going to ride downtown and meet a bunch of fellow cyclists on the steps of Columbus City Hall in a green bunny suit made me want to pull the blankets over my head and stay in bed. This wasn’t the first time I have ridden a bike in this costume. I actually did an entire winter mountain bike series racing a borrowed fat bike in this fabulous furry $9 bunny suit. The main difference is I knew most of the people at the race series, while I hadn't met most of the city officials or business leaders who would be at the Bike to Work Week event. Clearly, I hadn’t thought this all the way through. I quickly made my way through my neighborhood hoping that none of my neighbors would see me. I high-tailed it (so to speak!) along my regular route to work and then continued all the way downtown to the steps of City Hall. My entire ride was a bit unexpected. No waves, no honks, no nods, no greetings of any sort. I even rode by two bus stops full of middle school students and no one said a word. Other than a construction worker in the Short North stopping his jackhammer and doing a double take there was nothing remarkable about this ride. Nothing to see here, keep it weird Columbus!

Nothing like a first impression!

Some bunny won!

Crazy that all that mud washed out.

Obviously this wasn’t a hardcore scientific experiment, just my own observations from my easy commute. But no matter what I wore, I wasn’t treated all that much differently. The entire week was great. No one honked at me, there were no close passes or white knuckle moments. I followed all traffic laws and, as the law allows, rode as far right as practicable—which sometimes meant riding where the passenger car tire goes or taking the lane. I never hugged the curb, didn't dart in and out of parked cars or ride in the door zone. I made sure I was predictable and visible at all times. My take from the week was it didn't matter what I wore what mattered is how I rode. The bottom line is—wear whatever you want! Just ride!

I encourage you all to try this for a week. It's seriously a hoot! Don't have a critter costume? No worries, just wear something a bit outrageous on the fifth day. You just might be surprised what happens! Or, you know, maybe not. Either way, you'll have biked a bunch and be a better person for it.

Through a rather bizarre series of events (ask me about it sometime), I was recently invited to speak at Qatar University (at the pleasure of the Princess, no less) about creating communities that welcome bikes for transportation. I'd heard that "no one bikes in Doha", so of course I was curious to discover and document the dystopian hellscape that would cause this to be the case.

I know, it's awful, can you even believe it?!

Spoiler alert: people DO ride bikes in Doha, just as people ride bikes basically everywhere in the world. And I found it quite lovely to get around there on a bike. But as ubiquitous as bicycling itself, are the many reasons why people believe people aren't bicycling: "The weather is too extreme." "The infrastructure doesn't support riding." "It's too dangerous for women to ride." Sound familiar?

People riding to the places they need to travel. (They were bemused at my question about whether they ride like this even in summer).

A person navigating Education City by bike.

To be sure, it can get HOT in Qatar—108 degree average temps in July, yikes! (just like it can get COLD in Ohio—0-degree temps during much of January, yikes!). There isn't much bicycle infrastructure in Doha (just like there are many parts of Central Ohio without bicycle infrastructure). There can be personal safety concerns for cyclists in Doha, particularly among historically marginalized populations (just like...you got it, right here in Ohio!). And yet, people DO ride for transportation, facing current conditions, both here and there, and everywhere, whether for the joy of it or the necessity. In Qatar as in Columbus, there is a disconnect between perception and reality when it comes to who is riding, how much and where. As much as things are different, mostly they are the same.

Bicycles, assemble!

My Doha adventure reinforced to me how universal are perceptions of bicycling barriers, and how universally will people ride in spite of the real and perceived barriers they face. But regardless whether we're in Doha or Columbus, the risk is the same—when we fail to see the people around us who are riding, it makes it easier not to invest in improving their ride experience. So take a closer look to see what evidence of cycling is around you, even in environments that seem hostile. It will be there. And disrupt any argument along the lines of "people don't ride here because..."—it's not true, guaranteed. People are riding everywhere, no matter what, and it's important that they're seen!

Every few weeks I find myself in conversation with someone (let's be real—it's typically a woman) who shares their experience of bicycling and then demurs: "but I'm not a real cyclist" or "but I'm not super hardcore (implication: like you) or anything". And I'm dumbfounded, because they've just told me how they're now riding to work at least once a week, or they've figured out riding in freezing temperatures, or they're using their bike for some trips to the grocery store, or they're riding down the busiest street in the community. But it's not enough. It doesn't count. It doesn't make them a "real cyclist".

Now I know that "cyclist" is a loaded label, tied to an identity most people aren't willing to claim for themselves. Of 1,967 respondents of two recent surveys we administered, only 5.2% said they considered themselves to be cyclists, while 41.8% said they are "someone who rides a bike from time to time, but is not really a cyclist". And to some extent that's the bad rap cyclists have for being scofflaws or elitist or rude, sure. But also, what comes immediately to mind when I say the word "cyclist"? How about what not-coincidentally comes up first on a Google image search:

Oh, but what if it's not so much the way you look as the fact that you're not working as hard as you think you should be? You only ride 2 miles to work. You don't ride in the rain or snow. You're slow. You drive part of the way and bike the rest. You take the easy streets, or even the path. Maybe if you were more like these guys:

The fluorescence really kicks it up a notch.

Now this is hardcore.

Stop. Listen to me. Here I am, holding your shoulders gently but firmly, looking directly into your eyes. I'm waiting for you to hear with your whole heart what I'm about to say:

Whatever you're doing—it's enough.However you look—you belong. Wherever you are—it's the perfect place, to begin or continue or stay.

You can be a real cyclist if you want. All it requires is riding a bike, and declaring yourself so. I'll believe you, I promise. At Yay Bikes!, we all will. Hardcore cheers to you, and to all of us who ride!

Feeling nervous about riding with traffic, facing harsh weather, or navigating the city by bicycle? Yay Bikes! has you covered. The Columbus non-profit provides a pretty extensive list of educational opportunities designed to get you riding no matter what your experience level.

2018 Leaders & Themes

With a nod to our current essential/unfortunate/exciting/'bout-timey national conversation, I present to you a very special Yay Bikes!–style celebration of women's leadership. Our 2018 Year of Yay! ride series will be led by 12 FAB women (and, ok ok, 3 token men). And wouldja check out these leaders and their themes:

We are so grateful that these women have agreed to lend their time, talents and creativity to these rides. Representation is critical to getting more women riding bikes--because envisioning yourself doing a big new thing often begins with seeing someone like you doing it first. Columbus has more women riding than most places, but we can always stand to bolster our numbers. Next year, let's take that on in a big way. Join us to ride with these women, and bring your friends!

2018 button art

Stay tuned...!

2018 Start/End Location

And finally, without further ado—our 2018 start/end location will be....

That's right, in Clintonville--2770 North High Street, Columbus OH 43202. Rejoice! And see you there soon for a ride.

Yay Bikes! Journeys recount howYay Bikes! is transforming lives and communities, from the perspective of those we’ve impacted. In this installment, we hear from John Cresencia about how Yay Bikes! has helped him and his family cultivate a rich, active social life here in Columbus.

Baby on board! (You now have NO excuse! ;) Photo credit: Catherine Girves

When you first asked me what Yay Bikes! had brought to my life, I honestly didn’t know. But now that we’re talking, my family and I have actually gotten a whole lot out of our involvement! Huh! Interesting!

— John Cresencia

MAKING CONNECTIONS: "If I ever move again the first thing I'll do is hook up with the local bike community. It's the quickest way to learn a place and make friends."

Growing up in the Asian nation of Brunei, John loved riding his bike to local beaches and nearby neighborhoods—like many kids, he found the independence and freedom it granted him intoxicating. He continued riding through childhood and university and, upon moving to Columbus in 2009, found his way to the Tuesday Night Ride series led by Ray George. And then made his way to the Year of Yay! series for its second-ever ride in February 2012. As a newbie to the city, he found that exploring by bike and meeting new people really jumpstarted his new life—with friendships he continues to enjoy to this day. (A similar thing happened, he notes, when he faced long-term travel for work to Detroit—the Slow Roll community there got him acclimated right quick.)

John chats with Nick & Oulanje on an early Year of Yay! ride.

He's in there somewhere. Photo credit: Bill Ferriot

SPREADING THE JOY: "I hope it's not too cheesy of me to say, but...bicycling has brought a lot of joy to my life. And I really enjoy helping others experience the same."

As the years went on, John became a Yay Bikes! regular, riding most rides and stepping up to lead some, checking folks in at a Ride of Silence, being a Bike the Cbus jack of all trades and helping park bikes with Yay Valet!. John's wife Evy isn't always able to ride, but she also joins in whenever she can—it's just that great of a community, they say, regardless of what type of rider you are, or how "hardcore". They both love spreading the joy of bicycling in whatever ways they can.

Speaking of which, John says, "The cool thing people may not realize about Yay Bikes! is how much it spawns so much more awesome within our bike community, where people gain confidence riding with the group and then split off from it to offer their own unique thing. I've even led a few rides myself. It's good to have a group out there that shows people the right way to lead a ride so that everyone feels safe and welcome."

It's a family affair volunteering at the 2017 Ride of Silence.

John, with fellow Bike the Cbus volunteers.

BIKING WITH BABY: "I've learned a lot from people on Yay! rides that's helped me figure out how to ride with my son."

One of the things John values most about his time with Yay Bikes! is the exposure he's had to a wide diversity of riders (most not in spandex!) and, more specifically, the breadth of expertise they're able to offer. "Getting out and riding with people is the best way to learn how to do things—ride roads, fix your bike, figure out routes, whatever. I see things and think, 'Hey, people here in Columbus, that I know, are doing this, and I think I can do it too'. It's how I figured out how to ride with my baby and make it work for both of us." He says, "If you don't know how exactly to ride, just do your best to make it to a ride and people there will take care of you."

Beating the rain at Bike the Cbus 2017.

All bundled up and oh so happy about it.

Yay Bikes! is grateful to John for his kindness, his easy conversation and his even easier "yes, I will!". We especially appreciate his willingness to share that darling baby with us (and all the wisdom he's gaining about riding with him).

Our Executive Director Catherine Girves (center), with Columbus' Director of Public Utilities Tracie Davies (left) and Director of Public Service Jennifer Gallagher (right).

Welcome to the monthly feature in which we round up all our events, earned media, program delivery, meetings and speaking engagements for the month. Representation and outreach like this is what you fund with your membership dollars and major gifts, folks! Behold, December:

Glorious day, bike with friends, birthday celebrationStopped for a rest, exuberantDozens of bikes parked everywhereOne small bike rack, a woman from our group put her bike there Near another bike already parked—handlebars touching

Our group congregated there, jovialStranger with toddler retrieves her bicycle Angrily Others are disrespecting her property (handlebars touching)Friend who parked near her bike, responds Frustrated Can’t we all just enjoy this beautiful dayConversation continues back and forth Heated Voices riseStranger with toddler: “You people…always ruin everything…”

Oh

She means: “You black people always ruin everything.”

Me, to Stranger with toddler (white woman to white woman): “Have we met?”Stranger with toddler: “What?”Me: “You don’t look familiar but you say you know how we always are. Have we met?”

Stranger with toddler, riding away in a huff, yells back to the group: “Black ghetto…”

Group: Unsurprised; deflated

—

Maybe, if you are a white person unaccustomed to riding with people of color, you are not aware that this sort of thing happens. Or that it happens so often it is the subject of morbid jokes, masking fear as folks ride through certain spaces. You could be forgiven for not knowing; after all, racism arises mostly in the presence of someone believed not to belong.

But if you are one of those people, I am telling you now that people of color and the white folks with them are confronted by explicit racism while riding bikes. I’ve experienced it and I’ve heard more stories than I can count. It is more prevalent than you might expect.

Our movement, which has focused on achieving infrastructure that promotes safety, needs to become more attuned to the culture in which people have to ride. Let us now understand that not everyone who rides has the same experience of their ride, regardless of the infrastructure available—some of us, due to our sex, body shape or skin color, assume more risk than others. Our community must rally around to forcefully denounce these threats.

With renewed urgency I return to this theme and expand upon it.

First, I acknowledge that racism is a sensitive subject in this country. Emotions are heightened. Tensions are amplified. I get it. Most of us are exhausted from reckoning with it. Given that, some of you might be thinking, “Please can we not make this a racial thing? I’m just trying to escape into a bike ride, the one thing in life where I can get away from it all and have some joy and peace.”

It might feel easier for us bike folks to keep our heads down and ignore the topic altogether. Surely there is enough to do in the realm of bicycle infrastructure and bike rides and safety education, no?

It is true, that all cyclists are sometimes subjected harassment from people driving in motor vehicles; we are all vulnerable as we ride. Some of us never feel more fearful or less powerful than when we’re on a bike.

And yet, beloved friends, can we take a moment, without judgment, to imagine what it must be like for our fellow bike comrades, whose ordinary fear of cars and their drivers is too-often compounded by the your-type-doesn’t-belong-here statements and (yes, even) threats of violence? Can we close our eyes, breathe deeply and just be with that for a moment? I hope upon doing so that you arrive at the same conclusion I have: we cannot let this stand, we simply cannot.

This organization’s mission is to influence the conditions that help people safely and comfortably ride bicycles for transportation. For our part, Yay Bikes! promises that we will continue to speak forcefully on difficult issues, like racism and other forms of oppression, as they pertain to the bicycle community. We are committed to the premise that all who join our rides, attend our events and encounter us elsewhere are respected and extended a generous welcome, and that action will be taken when our standards of conduct are not met. I hope you'll join Yay Bikes! in "taking a pedal" against bigotry in all forms.

Bike rides are among the very few spaces in our society where we've got nothing but time to chat about life, where difference can melt into camaraderie. People can be known. Relationships can be built. Healing can occur. I hope you’ll join us for some bike rides with friends, new and old.

Thanks to ride leader Alex Fleschner for his ride leadership and this write-up!

November’s theme was “Birding,” something that I had started to get interested in with my children. I figured if my kids were interested in it, maybe others might be as well! And there were some interesting birds in the area to highlight as well.

No drop means no drop! Here we stand awaiting a comrade who stayed behind to help someone whose bike broke *right* as we exited the Whole Foods parking lot. Photo credit: Shyra Allen

We left Easton Whole Foods and got onto the Alum Creek Trail, heading north towards Inniswood Metro Gardens, our first stop. It was cold—the weather only got above freezing in the afternoon—but there was no wind or rain, and the sun came out a few times. Given the weather, we didn’t see many birds, though you could hear them along the trail.

We ride by a nest on the Alum Creek Trail. Photo credit: Shyra Allen

At Inniswood, I discussed how we got started, as well as tips from the National Audubon Society on how to get started birding. I also discussed some of the apps available. One water break later, we were on our way along the Chipmunk Chatter Trail to our next destination, the Hoover Dam Reservoir.

Alec talks about how his family got interested in birding. Photo credit: Shyra Allen

At the reservoir, we discussed the bald eagles that nest in the area. Bald eagles are feed mostly on fish and require large, tall trees for their nest, which makes the reservoir a great spot to see them in action. We didn’t get to see any during our quick stop, but the view was still great!

Clear skies! A great day for birds and bikes alike! Photo credit: Shyra Allen

Our last stop took us to Blendon Woods Metro Park, where naturalist Jamie Kidwell talked turkey to us. The wild turkey flock at Blendon Woods is quite large, measuring in the dozens. A word of caution, though: male turkeys have spurs on their feet. And they can fly, though not far, so don’t be too surprised if one takes to the air if they get scared!

Jamie Kidwell gets us up close and personal with a turkey wing. Photo credit: Shyra Allen

With that, we headed down Cherry Bottom Road and back to Whole Foods to warm up and recover. Thank you to everyone who joined us on the ride!

Tabling at the annual meeting of the Capital Crossroads and Discovery District Special Improvement Districts. Photo credit: Jeff Gove

Welcome to the monthly feature in which we round up all our events, earned media, program delivery, meetings and speaking engagements for the month. Representation and outreach like this is what you fund with your membership dollars and major gifts, folks! Behold, November:

Me (far right), making time for long bike rides with loved ones. Photo credit: Shyra Allen

(Gulp…) So I never thought I’d say this but…I think I’m a recreational cyclist now. All the signs are there: eagerly planning long bike rides, going on long bike rides, enjoying long bike rides. And if you know me, you know this is SUPER weird. I work, I don’t play! I ride my bike for utility, not fun! Admitting that I ride recreationally now, just for fun—well, it’s like I don’t even know myself anymore.

This may have been a natural progression for me. I mean, I am the Executive Director of a bicycle advocacy organization (albeit one focused on transportation cycling), after all! But I do wonder if the acceleration my path to recreational riding this year isn’t somehow tied to the topsy-turvy nature of USA 2017. I’ve been frustrated a lot this year. Pondering how to be of use in this moment, wondering if perhaps I’m going about it all wrong. I’m still out there every day, advocating with all my heart for the big stuff—peaceful streets and better bicycling conditions. But is seems I’ve also been heeding a call from deep within to “go small”. It’s been a time of nurturing relationships; exploring, learning and reflecting; meeting new people; moving my body—a time, yes, of long bike rides.

There are ways in which our bicycle movement absolutely speaks to the broader, more fraught issues of our time—more on that next month—but it also offers us a rare and necessary space in our society for healing. Rebuilding frayed nerves and relationships, one pedal stroke at a time. Connecting folks from different neighborhoods, one corridor at a time. What could be more important than this? This is The Work that I and Yay Bikes! are called to do. If you're feeling overwhelmed, sad, angry, hopeless, I encourage you go small with me. Not so small that you go into hiding. Just small enough for a restorative bike ride with friends new and old.

Cyclists following all the laws, likely still pissing people off. Photo credit: David Curran

Every time you get on a bike, from this moment forward, obey the letter of the law in every traffic exchange everywhere to help drivers (and police officers) view cyclists as predictable users of the road who deserve respect.

— "Is It O.K. to Kill Cyclists?", The New York Times

The above quote reflects an idea with seemingly widespread acceptance, which is that cyclists could overcome drivers’ hatred and earn their respect if we would all just follow the rules. Respect for cyclists, in this view, is predicated not on our legitimate, law-given right to the road, but our ability to perfectly, “in every traffic exchange everywhere”, obey the letter of the law. Never mind that drivers and cyclists break the law at roughly the same rate—the perception is that cyclists are the scofflaws, and damn rude to boot. And so many of us have taken to policing our fellow riders, blaming them for our pitiable station, or begging the police to more often ticket law-breaking cyclists. This I consider unfortunate—because the sad truth is that cyclists can never be perfect enough for motorists to willingly give up the space and speed they feel they’re entitled to. It’s time for us to try a different way.

The politics of respectability

The concept of respectability politics, through which Black social critics have made the case that "acting right" will never command respect for Blacks in American society, is a useful frame for all marginalized groups, including bicyclists.

Respectability politics...refers to attempts by marginalized groups to police their own members and show their social values as being continuous, and compatible, with mainstream values rather than challenging the mainstream for its failure to accept difference.

— wikipedia.org

You might recognize a respectability-oriented argument from comments by Bill Cosby and Charles Barkley, who insist that a lack of personal responsibility and conformity with mainstream culture, not white racism or hundreds of years of oppression, are primarily to blame for the black community's continued struggle. If (poor) blacks would pull up their pants, speak deferentially to cops, stop acting like thugs, etc., etc.—then they'd thrive. Unfortunately, as many of us know from hard experience, being respectable does not necessarily translate into being respected. Plenty of "respectable" black folks still face discrimination and, indeed, outcomes as disparate as those of America's white and black communities suggests something more is at play here.

Of course respect can be earned, no one is disputing that. But when a power imbalance exists—caused and reinforced over many years by policies that benefit one group over another—the more powerful group comes to feel entitled to their privilege, and blind to its true cause (i.e., not their own inherent worth but an entire system stacked in their favor). They are not so inclined to grant respect (i.e., equality) to those they believe would halt the gravy train.

And so it is with bikes v cars. If we believe that stopping at stop signs is going to reverse the impact of decades of car-prioritizing policies in the U.S., we are tragically naive. Again, cyclists can never be perfect enough to get motorists to willingly give up the space and speed they feel they’re entitled to. Many motorists don't want us on the road, period. They don't want to have to drive slower and pay better attention and re-learn traffic law and adopt a new transportation paradigm that encompasses all comers. I’m not mad about that—change can be uncomfortable, and there’s no denying that this change is a doozy. What’s crazy-making is the pretending.

I remember on two separate occasions when I was stopped at a red light and the drivers behind me honked their horns, waved frantically and yelled at me to get over so they could make a right turn—which I did not oblige, because I was headed straight. They were both over-the-top mad about it. The second time it happened, I remember wondering if he would have pretended to be as mad if I'd run the red light as he was actually mad that I was stopped there, delaying his turn. Prior to those incidents it had not occurred to me that people might (subconsciously, perhaps) pretend to care about cyclists following the law in order to mask their rage at cyclists existing in their space...but what other explanation could there be?

Countering power and privilege

Of course it's good practice for cyclists to observe the law—it upholds the predictability upon which safety in traffic depends, and it's generally safer for us. But let's not pretend that it will earn us the respect we crave, and let's not waste time policing cyclists who aren't compliant. Instead our movement should turn our attention to helping motorists, who wield a disproportionate ability to harm, move into a new paradigm of transportation. How? Widespread motorist education. About this, Yay Bikes! has some thoughts—and also, some original data. Which is back up by yet more data.

During our 2015 Ride Buddy pilot program, we rode with people to help them figure out how to ride bikes on trips to and/or from work. We followed up with participants six weeks after their Ride Buddy experience, to see whether and how their behaviors and attitudes had changed. A couple of things we were curious about was how riding with us influenced both their impression of bicyclists and the way they drove their car. Here's what we found:

In terms of how, exactly, their impression changed, the majority of survey respondents (61%, n=41) reported that they "better understand why [bicyclists] make the choices they do", while others said they "feel less hostility towards them" and even that they "think they're kinda heroic, actually".

The majority of respondents (61.5%, n=39) reported that they "give cyclists more space when passing", while others said they "are less anxious and more patient"—and also that they drive more slowly and less distractedly. One even wrote, "I'm way more patient with cyclists now. I understand what they're doing.”

Although it's a small sample size, these results suggest something interesting—thata one- to two-hour guided bike ride experience can change both the way people drive and how they feel about bicyclists.

In fact, I have come to believe that the only way for cyclists to get more respect is for more motorists to become bicyclists, even for a very short period of time. Ideally, a preponderance of the population would participate in educational rides like How We Roll or Ride Buddy or Professional Development Rides. But how? It can be hard for people to overcome their fear of riding with traffic, their inability to see themselves as a “cyclist”, logistical challenges, etc. So anything that compels participation is likely a no-go. But an idea from former Yay Bikes! founding board member Ken Cohen provides a compelling alternative. What if we could get insurance companies to provide a discount to customers who participate in an educational bike ride? If we could demonstrate safer driving through bicycle education, I bet insurance companies would consider it. And if people could save money on their car insurance by becoming more attuned to how their driving impacts more vulnerable road users, I think they'd jump at the chance.

The final word

People who ride bicycles yearn for respect out there on the roads, and no wonder—our lives can depend on it. The mistake we sometimes make is believing that we can earn that respect by acting right and following all the rules. We cannot. As much as we should ride lawfully (and we should), sadly that is not the path to legitimacy. We need to cultivate empathy among those who drive. We need to get them to ride with us. And with the proper incentives, I believe we can.

Welcome to the monthly feature in which we round up all our events, earned media, program delivery, meetings and speaking engagements for the month. Representation and outreach like this is what you fund with your membership dollars and major gifts, folks! Behold, October:

Aliceanne Inskeep put together a lovely ride for October's Year of Yay!, during which we recreated her first date with Ken Cohen. Our group of 20ish traveled 17 miles on a perfect 70-degree day, exploring downtown Westerville together.

Our group kicked off by rolling through friendly neighborhood roads and making our way towards Westerville. Once we arrived, we dismounted at the Westerville Bike Shop and took the next 40 minutes to explore State Street's shops, cafes and bakeries—and people definitely took advantage!

Spooky cyclist @ Westerville Bike Shop. Photo credit: Keith Mayton

YUM! Photo credit: Keith Mayton

We then took our two-wheelin' selves and made way to Westerville Cemetery (Of course! Because all good first dates include a cemetery visit!). We learned that Benjamin Russell Hanby, a composer in the 1850s who wrote the classic Christmas song "Up on the Housetop", was buried there. After a bit of a history lesson from Aliceanne and a failed attempt singing the song as a group, we headed back to our starting point.

We made a quick stop to take a group picture at the Alum Creek park amphitheater. The way back was spent mostly on the Alum Creek trail.